Can I Keep Him Part 2
February 5th 2010 23:33
As I explained yesterday, my old Basset hound Keesha and I get along quite well together. She follows me around while the children are at school. We're both overweight, we both snore and we are both fond of an afternoon nap in the sun. I thought that the two of us would waddle into our declining years together.
Then something happened. Keesha was lured away from the yard one warm autumn night by a ne'er do well who no doubt promised her the world but who left her with six squirmy white puppies. When I realized that she had fallen for some smooth talking stray I was of course quite upset. When I saw the puppies I was beyond upset. Prior to this, Keesha has produced three lovely Basset puppies per litter. Adorable little bundles with long ears and soulful eyes. This bunch of miscreants look like exactly what they are: white mongrels with no inherent cute factor that I can tell.
Gertrude, of course fell in love with the little beggars. "Perhaps they are like Dalmations, mom" she offered. "Maybe they will grow spots in a few days and BECOME CUTE." It was a cheerful thought but I knew there was no way these puppies were going to be anything more than average looking dogs.
I was however, very firm with both girls. Cute or not, all six puppies had to find homes somewhere else. There are quite enough dogs at our house. Keesha should have been spayed the second I decided not to breed her anymore. It was irresponsible of me but, having made the mistake, I needed to pull myself together and do the right thing. Find new homes for the pups and have the mother fixed as soon as possible. That being the case, no one was allowed to name the new puppies, or hold them or do anything more than ensure that they were healthy and ready to leave the premises when they were old enough to be weaned.
I've stood firm on the subject. Little Inky (named for his ink black nose) understands that he is going to have to move on in a few weeks. As do his brothers and sisters.
Last night the puppies celebrated their third week on Earth. Tallulah held one of the puppies up for me to inspect. "Look at this one mom. Do you see how scruffy his coat looks?" He
is the runt and he is not as cute as all the others. I feel sorry for him. No one is going to want a dog who looks like this." She held the little dog up to her cheek and smiled sadly at me while the puppy looked at me with big innocent eyes. I knew then what was coming. The question I dreaded...what I was trying to avoid by keeping human and canine children apart.
"Mom, since no one is going to want this one can I keep him?"
Then something happened. Keesha was lured away from the yard one warm autumn night by a ne'er do well who no doubt promised her the world but who left her with six squirmy white puppies. When I realized that she had fallen for some smooth talking stray I was of course quite upset. When I saw the puppies I was beyond upset. Prior to this, Keesha has produced three lovely Basset puppies per litter. Adorable little bundles with long ears and soulful eyes. This bunch of miscreants look like exactly what they are: white mongrels with no inherent cute factor that I can tell.
Gertrude, of course fell in love with the little beggars. "Perhaps they are like Dalmations, mom" she offered. "Maybe they will grow spots in a few days and BECOME CUTE." It was a cheerful thought but I knew there was no way these puppies were going to be anything more than average looking dogs.
I was however, very firm with both girls. Cute or not, all six puppies had to find homes somewhere else. There are quite enough dogs at our house. Keesha should have been spayed the second I decided not to breed her anymore. It was irresponsible of me but, having made the mistake, I needed to pull myself together and do the right thing. Find new homes for the pups and have the mother fixed as soon as possible. That being the case, no one was allowed to name the new puppies, or hold them or do anything more than ensure that they were healthy and ready to leave the premises when they were old enough to be weaned.
I've stood firm on the subject. Little Inky (named for his ink black nose) understands that he is going to have to move on in a few weeks. As do his brothers and sisters.
Last night the puppies celebrated their third week on Earth. Tallulah held one of the puppies up for me to inspect. "Look at this one mom. Do you see how scruffy his coat looks?" He
is the runt and he is not as cute as all the others. I feel sorry for him. No one is going to want a dog who looks like this." She held the little dog up to her cheek and smiled sadly at me while the puppy looked at me with big innocent eyes. I knew then what was coming. The question I dreaded...what I was trying to avoid by keeping human and canine children apart.
"Mom, since no one is going to want this one can I keep him?"
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